


until you come back down

by typefortydeductions



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Missing Scene, Star Trek: Into Darkness, The Triumvirate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-23
Updated: 2014-05-23
Packaged: 2018-01-26 07:11:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1679399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/typefortydeductions/pseuds/typefortydeductions
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are two very different vigils by Jim Kirk’s bedside that stay constant through the weeks. One is all bustle and bluster and muttering under his breath, with steady hands that smooth back hair, belying sleepless nights and hollow eyes. The other is implacable silence, stillness absolute, with bowed head and tension hidden in clasped hands and too-steady breaths.</p>
            </blockquote>





	until you come back down

There are two very different vigils by Jim Kirk’s bedside that stay constant through the weeks. One is all bustle and bluster and muttering under his breath, with steady hands that smooth back hair, belying sleepless nights and hollow eyes. The other is implacable silence, stillness absolute, with bowed head and tension hidden in clasped hands and too-steady breaths.

It’s kind of comforting, Bones thinks. Seeing Spock’s chest rise and fall in time with Jim’s. Both as still as each other. Like Spock can’t even blink until Jim does. Like maybe Spock’s channelling all his movement into wishing Jim alive instead. Vulcans don’t wish, but Jim Kirk has changed them all.

And so Bones starts moving around Spock the same unselfconscious way he does with Jim, handing Spock water (I don’t care if you grew up on the goddamn moon, Spock, you need to drink) as he checks Jim’s vitals; running a tricorder over him as he changes Jim’s IV. It becomes almost comfortable, the tenacity of routine in the face of the fracturing of Bones’ universe.

And then Spock has to leave. Starfleet orders take priority, after all. (It’s not ideal, sir, but we’re understaffed at the moment. You do understand, don’t you, Commander?)

Bones watches him unfold himself from the chair, face impassive. Watches the way his hands tremble, then clench into fists behind his back as he turns from Jim’s bed. Can practically see the intellect struggling to contain the overwhelming fear that threatens to consume them both, the sense of drifting that comes without the person who made it all make a little bit more sense.

Spock leaves, and Bones is alone with the hum of the machines, Sulu’s flowers wilting in the corner.

So Spock isn’t there when Jim opens his eyes – slowly, like he’s half-afraid of what he might see. Isn’t there to see the relief and joy flood back into them, the quirked smile as Bones grumbles and fidgets to hide the hands that can finally shake. And Bones isn’t there when Spock finds out. Isn’t there to see the sharp release of breath, the half-moon marks on his palm. But can imagine all too well the way his eyes flicker shut for a moment. The way his shoulders slip in an almost invisible release of tension.

Bones doesn’t have to imagine the moment Spock sees Jim again. Jim jerks from his grip as he hears the familiar step, IV snagging at his skin. Spock stands in the doorway, mouth open as if he had been about to speak, motionless. It would be almost amusing if Jim hadn’t gone still too. Immobile in a way that sends cold fingers of flashback down Bones’ spine, making him want to spit out a sarcastic remark, just to see Jim’s inevitable eye roll, the exasperation that proves he’s still alive. But there’s a tone to the silence that forbids this. It’s the loaded silence of a monastery, almost sacred, and so Bones says nothing as Spock takes a halting step towards the bed, his normal fluid Vulcan grace almost robotic.

He takes another step, stopping just short of Jim’s bedside. Slowly, he raises the ta’al, his gaze an almost painful mixture of relief and disbelief.

“I…I” Spock takes a shuddering breath, and, unconsciously, Bones clenches his fist in the sheets.

“I missed you, Jim.”

And Jim smiles, all artless joy and grace, and raises the Vulcan salute in return, bringing it forward so that his fingertips are just grazing Spock’s. Spock’s shoulders shudder, and Bones watches as the Vulcan folds his fingers over Jim’s, bringing their joined hands down so that they are resting on the edge of the bed. Something in Bones’ chest loosens as he watches them.There is a beat, and then Jim turns to Leonard, his grin wicked.

“Ready?” And there is a dare in his voice, a dare that speaks of the stars.

Bones rolls his eyes, lifting the hypo in his hand threateningly, and Jim tips back his head and laughs, laughs till the breaths run short in his lungs, and they both dart forward to grasp his shoulders.

And yeah, Jim is right. It may take a few more months (and longer than that, if Bones has anything to do with it), but they will be ready.

Ready to take on the world.


End file.
